


Ladies Night

by Elizabeethan



Series: It's About Bloody Time Extras [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Crack, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Funny, Implied Sexual Content, Lady's Night, Sex Talk, Well I think it's funny, the ladies talk about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27006676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeethan/pseuds/Elizabeethan
Summary: Emma Swan attends lady's night hosted by her mother for a night of postpartum normalcy. Games ensue.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Series: It's About Bloody Time Extras [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971553
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69





	Ladies Night

**Author's Note:**

> This fits into the It's About Bloody Time universe. You don't really have to read that to enjoy this, but it might help!

“Oh yes, it’s ladies night, and the feeling’s right!”

“Ruby, stop.”

“Oh, what a night!”

“Please, Ruby. Please stop.”

“What, you're not a fan of Kool & The Gang?”

“Not particularly.”

“Get down on it, c’mon get down on it,” she says, closing her eyes and soulfully swaying her shoulders from side to side while she snaps her fingers.

“That’s not even the same song!” Emma groans as Ruby reaches into her center console for what she knows must be the AUX cord. “If you play Kool & The Gang right now…”

“Oh yes it’s ladies night!”

She wants so badly to stop the car, open Ruby’s door, and shove her out into the road. She wants to slam her head against the steering wheel and maybe she won’t be able to hear any disco. She wants to go home and spend the evening with her baby, who’s just starting to babble adorably incoherent nonsense. But when Mary Margaret Blanchard insists on a Storybrooke Ladies Night, one complies, lest one desires to be berated for the remainder of the calendar year.

Mary Margaret got the idea to celebrate National Best Friend Day with her girlfriends and hasn’t let it go since. The sad thing is, National Best Friend Day was three months ago, but something got in the way.

(Emma had a baby the day before.)

She’s neurotically decorated her loft in pink and purple hearts, baked all kinds of weird heart shaped desserts, and insisted that each guest wears purple to match. Emma Swan does not own purple.

_“You’ll have fun, darling. You should go,”_ Killian had told her, and what the hell does he know? Just because they’ve been together for a year and have a child together, that means he _knows_ her?

She’s feeling a bit belligerent today.

But could she truly be blamed? Her sweet baby is home with her sweet baby daddy, and she’s been dragged out to ladies night with her mother and all of her mother’s friends.

Okay, fine. They're her friends, too. But her baby is so, so cute. Come on.

“Come on, Emma, this can’t be that bad for you. Tell me you're at least a little excited to see your friends. You’ve been holed up in your house since Corrine was born!”

“That was only three months ago! I’m on maternity leave!”

“You need a drink!”

“I’m _breastfeeding._ ”

Ruby shrugs. “What’s it called? Pump and dump?”

She groans, rolling her eyes before focusing back on the road. “I’m your designated driver, and I don’t want a drunk infant.”

“Well, Killian is her father. Doesn’t he have, like, 200 barrels of rum on his ship?”

“I only saw a few.”

“You were in the storage place? What’s it called? Stowage?”

Emma blushes, because there was only one reason that she ever found herself among Killian’s rum barrels, and she was _not_ about to share that story during ladies night.

Once they mercifully arrive at the loft, Emma and Ruby make their way up and are immediately bombarded with hugs from her mother. “Hi sweetie,” she says, planting a kiss on Emma’s cheek, and _oh god_ , is she drunk?

“Hi mom…” Emma says timidly.

“Sangria? It’s made with _fresh_ peaches and strawberries. Also, wine.”

She laughs tautly and thinks hard. Killian did his research, of course. They have a stock of breast milk in the freezer, and she can pump and dump, as Ruby so helpfully suggested. Killian even insisted that she should relax tonight and to not worry about him and Corrine, to just have fun. It took her a while to accept that having a drink or two tonight does not make her a bad mom. She even talked it over with Archie yesterday.

So, she nods, takes a clear plastic cup, and fills it with the fruity concoction.

And damn, it’s _good._ And it goes down _easy._

It’s been over a year since she’s had a sip of alcohol in her, and it shows. One drink in and she’s feeling a warm buzz over her skin and a smile toying at her lips that she can’t seem to get rid of.

“Let’s see them, then,” Regina says with an air of irritation in her voice.

“See what?” Ashley asks.

“The pictures. We all know Emma is dying to show us all pictures of the baby.”

“Hey, Ashley has a baby, too,” Emma argues in an attempt to defend herself,

“Yes, but you still have that sickening new-mother glow. I know you have at least a hundred new photos since I dropped Henry off on Tuesday.”

She’s right, dammit.

Emma whips out her phone and shows off countless images of little Corrine. She’s gained close to eight pounds since birth, and she’s a chunky little girl. Her hair still hasn’t come in, either, so she’s cursed with a fuzzy bald head. Emma is convinced that she’ll be a blonde, but for now, she’s a cue ball. Her favorite feature of her daughter’s, though, is her ocean blue eyes.

“I miss her,” Mary Margaret says sadly, and Emma nods.

“Me too. Look at these cheeks!”

“She’s so chunky. And look at Hook holding her!” Tinkerbell cries, reaching for the phone and giving Emma a sweet smile once she’s zoomed in. “This is so cute. You have to frame this.” 

“I did.”

The evening goes on with games and lots more sangria, but Emma takes it easy after her second glass. At this rate, Ruby might end up being _her_ designated driver.

After a few too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, the game started to become too raunchy. When they first started, the answers were relatively tame, but when Ruby put down a card about a man on the brink of… _something_ that made everyone in the room start hollering and blushing and nudging each other’s shoulders, it was clear where the night was headed. 

“Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” Emma would have never assumed Ashley would be the one to suggest it, but here they are.

“Yay!” Ruby agrees, clapping enthusiastically. “Everyone, raise three fingers!” Emma catches Regina’s eye roll and Mary Margaret’s nervous hesitation before they all put three fingers into the air. “Who wants to go first?” Silence. “Alright, me! Never have I ever… been a parent.”

Emma rolls her eyes now. “Ruby, come on! You’re knocking out, like, everyone here!”

“Right, everyone but me and Tink. That’s the point of the game, Emma.” 

“Alright,” Regina says brazenly. “Never have I ever changed into a different species.”

“Ooh, Regina, that’s fierce!” Mary Margaret says drunkenly as Ruby puts down a finger, now matching almost everyone else in the room, and then she asks, “Does Tink count?”

“Yes.”

“What!?”

“Emma’s next.”

“Never have I ever… um… shit. Um…”

“Yes, you have!” Ashley shouts with a giggle, and Emma blushes as the room bursts into laughter.

“Stop! Never have I ever… um… punched my true love in the face with a rock?”

Mary Margaret scoffs. “What? A compass doesn’t count?” she asks sarcastically.

“Huh?”

“Hook. During your sword fight in the Enchanted Forest. You punched him in the face with the compass, remember?”

“Why would you… Hook isn’t…”

Everyone stares at her. “Yes, he is, come on,” Tink says.

“Yeah, seriously. He’s due to propose soon.”

“What?!”

“Isn’t it almost a year now? How are you celebrating your anniversary?”

Emma’s tipsy self isn’t as emotionally mature as sober Emma. So, she bites her lips, widens her eyes, and changes the subject to something easier to talk about.

“Never have I ever been to a ball.”

Four fingers go down. Five sets of eyes roll dramatically.

“Never have I ever had sex while pregnant,” Ruby says, and _seriously_? How can she ask this many questions? It’s not even her turn. 

“Never have I ever had sex with a pirate,” Tink says, and not only is that surprising because Emma thought for _sure_ that they had a history, but also because, apparently, Emma is now under personal attack.

“Oh, come on! You really haven’t?”

“Are you asking if I’ve had sex with your lover and the father of your newborn child? Because I’m not sure I’d answer you if I had.”

“I wouldn’t answer,” Ashley pipes up.

“I wouldn’t either, but I would do him.”

“Ruby!”

“Look at him!”

“I do, quite frequently!”

“How frequently?”

“I have one,” Mary Margaret interrupts, practically drilling a hole into Emma’s head with how hard she’s smirking at her. “Never have I ever had sex in my mother’s home.”

Emma’s jaw drops. “Mom!”

“I just wanted to know! It’s my house, and your sex life seems to be… very healthy.”

“What the hell makes you say that?!”

“Well, you weren’t as quiet as you thought you were every time you were sneaking out.” While she started speaking slowly, her pace picks up. “Honestly, it’s a miracle it took you as long as it did to get pregnant with how often you and Killian were—”

“Ooooh!” Ruby howls.

“No! Of course I haven’t had sex here!” Emma does note, however, that both Ruby and Regina put their fingers down at that question, so Ruby is out. Thank god.

“Never have I ever done it on a rum barrel,” Ruby says, as if she didn’t just lose the damn game.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

“Well, I’m out,” Mary Margaret says.

~~~~

“Fun time, love?” Killian asks into the darkness of the living room when Emma starts to slink onto the couch, much later than she anticipated. She’s already too-loudly busted into the bedroom room before even acknowledging Killian, checking to make sure Corrine was sleeping, brushing a finger gently over her fat cheek but stopping herself from picking her up.

“Mhmm,” she hums happily, flopping towards him and resting her head on his lap. “I played games. And I drank sangria.”

He laughs lightly, rubbing a hand, his _left_ hand, up and down her arm once she lies down. He bends and kisses her forehead before saying, “I’m glad. You needed a night out.”

“I dumped.”

“…hmm?”

“I pumped. And then I dumped. When I went to check on her.”

“Ah,” he chortles. “Very good, darling,” he says as he squeezes her shoulder and laughs. “Who drove you home?”

“Ruby, the damn scoundrel. She wouldn’t stop trying to get me out!”

“Of the car?!”

“No, of the game. She kept saying stuff that she knows I’ve done, like had sex with a pirate, or had sex while pregnant, or had sex on a barrel of rum.”

She thinks that if he had been drinking, he would have done a spit take. That would’ve been funny. She would’ve made him clean the couch. “How does she know about the rum barrel, pray tell?”

She shrugs, looking up at him and smirking. “I’ll never tell.”

“You told _someone_ ,” he says pointedly and laughs, planting a soft kiss to her nose. “Did you have water, Swan?”

She nods against his lap, sighing. “I thought I was gonna have sex tonight, but I think I’m too tired.”

“Who were you planning on having sex with?”

Emma gasps, sitting up quickly and straddling his lap, placing both hands on either side of Killian’s shoulders. “You!” she says a bit too loud, and he winces softly before grinning and leaning up to kiss her again.

“I was only teasing, my love. I know you meant that.”

“Am I your true love?” she asks, and someone should tape her mouth shut now, right?

He stills, looking her in the eye and wrapping both arms around her waist. “What makes you ask that?”

“I said, ‘never have I ever punched my true love in the face,’ but mom said that one wasn’t true.”

He laughs at her again, and she’s glad that she could serve as such reliable entertainment for him this evening. “I’d almost forgotten about that, you know.”

“I know you threw that fight.”

He smiles, nodding at her as she rests her head against his neck. “Aye, I did. But it was only because I was smitten with the fiery blonde lass who trapped me at the top of a beanstalk.” She giggles and nuzzles her nose against his skin because Emma Swan is disgustingly in love, and you heard it here first. “I don’t know if I’m your true love, Emma, the only ways of finding out that I know of are rather sordid, but I do know that I truly love you.”

_Dammit,_ she thinks. When has Emma Swan ever swooned before? The sangria certainly plays a role, right? “I truly love you, too, you big fuzzy idiot.”

“Did you just call me fuzzy?”

“Yeah,” she nods, reaching around him to pinch his ass with great effort. “Your big fuzzy butt.”

He laughs too loudly for a baby to be sleeping in the next room, and rolls her over onto her back, pinning her arms above her head and rubbing his chin against her neck. “Fuzzy butt? I’ll show you fuzzy.”

“No!” she squeals, laughing as he starts to nibble at her neck, and if she said that she was too tired for sex on ladies night, she must’ve been lying.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just crack (with a dash of fluff)!! I was in a crack mood last night when I had Ladies Night stuck in my head and I said "Emma needs a ladies night." Catch up with me on tumblr @elizabeethan!!


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